


feel it start to permeate

by cherryvanilla



Series: young blood [1]
Category: Actor RPF, Hockey RPF
Genre: 2013 Stanley Cup Playoffs, F/M, Porn with Feelings, long distance hookups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 19:56:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey! Watch it, buddy,” the girl says, scoffing and tossing him what he’s sure is a dirty look even behind her sunglasses. She’s wearing a grey t-shirt and skinny jeans. Johnny sort of gapes because she’s pretty fucking stunning, but then she’s gone, flipping him off in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	feel it start to permeate

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning of this takes place on June 5, 2013, when the Hawks were out on Rodeo Drive the day before their game vs. the Kings. It incorporates their Cup win but then branches off to imaginary timelines, particularly Kstew’s filming schedule as when I wrote this over a month ago it wasn't known which film she was shooting first. 
> 
> Title by The Naked and Famous. Thanks to abby and clev for beta <3 
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://smg.photobucket.com/user/pablohoney279/media/crackship%20gifs/kstewtazerla_zpsa6935464.jpg.html)  
> 

**I. We require certain skills**

They’ve just left morning skate and are walking back down Rodeo; Saader’s chirping Frolik over how he apparently thinks he’s going to get stopped for autographs, and when Johnny turns his head to laugh, he bumps straight into someone.

“Hey! Watch it, buddy,” the girl says, scoffing and tossing him what he’s sure is a dirty look even behind her sunglasses. She’s wearing a grey t-shirt and skinny jeans. Johnny sort of gapes because she’s pretty fucking stunning, but then she’s gone, flipping him off in the process.

He hears a choking sound, and then Kaner’s falling into step beside him, elbowing him hard in the side. “Dude. That was Bella Swan.”

“Who?”

“Oh my fucking god,” Kaner mutters, as if Johnny’s just committed some egregious sin. “Kristen Stewart.”

Johnny looks behind him, fruitlessly. “Shit, really?”

Kaner groans. “Yes.”

“Well. Huh.”

Kaner elbows him again, shaking his head, and the team spends the rest of the bus ride chirping him over his literal brush with fame.

Bunch of disrespectful assholes, the lot of them.  
_______________________

They go out for Hammer’s birthday that night, since they play the next day. They’ve got a table at a restaurant that’s darkly lit and a little loud. Johnny gets up to order shots from the bar for everyone, since it’s still rather early. When he looks towards his left, he thinks he must be seeing things, because that’s definitely Kristen Stewart. Again.

“Uh, hi.”

She turns to him, and then studies his face. “Oh, it’s you.” She’s wearing the same outfit, except now she’s got on a black hoodie that’s unzipped. Johnny’s since changed into jeans and a white t-shirt with a backwards hat.

Johnny takes her remembering him as a plus, even if her tone sounds as though he’s something disgusting that she just scraped off her Converse.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he says, dryly, watching her lips twitch. “Sorry about earlier.”

She shrugs, and then knocks back a shot. It’s ridiculously sexy. “Whatever, man.”

Johnny gives his order to the bartender; Kristen raises her eyebrows. “I thought you were some hot-shot exec in a suit earlier, but now you just look like any college dude in that outfit. Who exactly are you impressing with twenty-five shots?”

Johnny laughs. “Captain’s duties.” At her blank stare, he adds, "I play hockey.”

“Oh,” she says, completely disinterested.

“For Chicago. We’re in the playoffs against L.A. right now.”

“Didn’t even know L.A. had a team, man.”

“They won the Cup last year,” Johnny says hotly, finding himself ridiculously wanting to defend the sport, if not the team in question.

Kristen shrugs again. “I must’ve been busy.”

He’s not gonna lie; her blasé attitude is totally doing it for him.

“Guess you should be getting back to them…” She trails off on a prompt.

“Johnny,” he supplies.

“Johnny,” Kristen repeats. “Is introducing myself egotistical? I never really get to introduce myself anymore.” She sounds almost wistful about it, through the casual deadpanned disinterest.

“So introduce yourself.”

“Kristen.” She grins, turning to face him fully and leaning against the bar.

“Kristen,” Johnny repeats, grinning back.

They stare at one another, and Johnny watches her eyes fall to his lips. He does the same and can’t help but tug his lower lip between his teeth. Want coils deep in his belly, and he shifts on his feet.

“Well, I gotta get back,” she says, breaking the moment.

Johnny nods, jerkily. “Of course. Uh, same,” he says, waving awkwardly to his large tray of shots.

Kristen laughs and then stares at him again, curiously, as if she’s deciding on something or already has. She leans in and stands on her toes to whisper in his ear, “Meet me near the bathrooms in ten minutes.”

Johnny pops a boner faster than he can remember since hitting puberty and nods, unable to think with all the blood rushing south, much less speak. 

She grins and he watches her ass as she walks away, discreetly adjusting his crotch before heading back to the guys.

“Took you long enough,” Kaner bitches when he returns.

Johnny nearly tells him, but knows Kaner will make a big deal about it, and then no one will shut up. “Drink your free alcohol.”

Kaner grins and salutes him.

Exactly ten minutes later, Johnny’s excusing himself. He finds Kristen in an alcove near the bathrooms, and his pulse begins to race.

“Come on,” she murmurs, and then she’s dragging him into the men’s room and into the nearest stall. No one seems to see them, but still.

“This is…” Johnny begins, shaking his head incredulously.

“Hot?” she asks, a challenge in her voice as she leans against the door and folds her arms over her chest. 

“Shit,” he mutters and bends to kiss her. Her mouth opens immediately under his, creating a frantic pace from the get-go. Johnny was ready for some slow making out, maybe even craving it, but he can totally work with this too. Kristen bites down on his lower lip, and he stifles a groan, tangling his fingers in her hair. She tilts her head back further and deepens the kiss, sliding their tongues together, her fingers gliding over his shoulders and across his back.

Johnny presses his hips against her and feels her gasp into the kiss. There are noises around them – the flushing of toilets, the sounds of water running. Luckily, this is one of those fancy restaurant bathrooms that have full coverage doors, and no one can see their feet from the outside.

Kristen’s hands slip from his back to his crotch, pushing his shirt out of the way and undoing his pants. 

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, breaking the kiss, sure to keep his voice low. “Yeah?”

Kristen smirks. “Yeah.” And then slides down his zipper, slowly, before shoving her hand inside his boxers.

He shudders, dick leaping in her hand. Kristen laughs and licks her palm before returning it to his dick, applying long strokes from base to head. 

They start kissing again, and Johnny takes this turn of events as an invitation to feel up her tits, first over her hoodie and then slowly unzipping it and sliding his hands beneath her shirt. 

“Fuck, yeah,” Kristen moans as he’s kissing down her neck, his beard scratching over her skin; her hand speeds up on his dick, twisting just right and applying pressure at the head with her thumb, stroking over his slit and spreading the pre-come around. 

“I don’t have a condom,” she admits when he’s shoved her bra out of the way and is pinching her nipple between his fingers, causing her to arch into the touch. Shit.

“Me neither,” Johnny replies.

Kristen groans and pulls him down, nipping at his throat before kissing her way up, her mouth soft and plush against his facial hair. “Gimme your fingers then.”

Johnny wastes no time. He unzips her jeans, lowering them just enough to slip his hand in, push aside her underwear and go to work. Kristen mumbles encouragement against his lips, telling him how she likes it. Their bodies move in time with their hands, and they kiss through it, swallowing moans and gasping for air as they each grow closer.

Johnny comes first, his legs tensing and body jerking up into her hand, her fist so fucking tight around him that he thinks he’ll die from the relentless friction.

He’s pressing his mouth firmly to hers, and he’s probably scratching the hell out of her face, but she doesn’t seem to mind, just keeps riding the two fingers he’s slipped inside her and grinding down against his thumb on her clit.

Johnny kisses down Kristen’s neck again, then pulls her earlobe between his teeth while palming her breasts. 

“Close?”

She inhales sharply. “Yeah, just –” She pulls on his neck and positions him so they’re kissing again. Johnny can do that. He parts her lips, lazily licking into her mouth. It’s slow and hot, and she lets out a choked-off moan before arching and freezing, her whole body trembling.

Johnny kisses her through it, gently, rubbing at her clit until she shies away.

They pull away from one another, and grin down at the come that’s on both the tails of his shirt and their hands. Johnny gets them some toilet tissue to clean up with.

Once they’re all tucked in, zipped up and presentable, it’s a little awkward, to say the least.

“So,” Johnny says, scratching at the back of his neck.

Kristen rolls her eyes and pulls Johnny’s phone out of his pocket, calling a number and then hanging up. “There. If you’re ever in L.A. again, look me up.”

Johnny smirks. “Considering we’d only be in L.A. again if we lose one of our next two games, I’m a little torn.”

She leans up and kisses his cheek. “I’m sure you could afford a vacation,” she whispers against his ear, and then walks out.

Johnny moves to follow, and then sees Kaner standing at the sink, washing his hands. Their gazes meet in the mirror.

“Dude,” Kaner says, his eyes comically wide, his mouth open. “Was that… did you?”

Johnny’s glad Kristen’s already out the door.

He walks to the sink next to Kaner and washes his own hands. “Maybe,” Johnny admits.

Kaner splashes him with water because he’s a dick. “Maybe, my ass!”

“It’s not a big deal.” Johnny shrugs.

It was a pretty big deal. Worse, he’d like to see her again, slide into her, make her come on his dick in a bed when they’ve got nothing but time.

His dick twitches painfully, and he feels his cheeks flame. Kaner’s gaping at him like he knows exactly where his mind is.

“Holy god,” he says. “I fucking hate you.”

“Lies,” Johnny says, with confidence.

Kaner laughs and claps him on the back. “Okay, I don’t. I get details though, right? What do you say, me, you and a hotel room tonight? Like old times?”

Johnny scoffs but cuffs him lightly on the back of the head. “You’re just using me for my information.”

“Well, yes,” Kaner agrees. “But I’ll let you choose the movie.”

“I guess you’ve got a deal.”

Johnny probably won’t tell him much, maybe nothing at all, and Kaner will probably mope and call him a traitor, but Johnny sort of just wants to keep this one to himself. He thumbs over his phone in the car ride back to the hotel. Maybe he’ll text her before the game tomorrow.

“Maybe we’ll come to L.A. with the Cup like we did last time,” Kaner says later, sleepily, on Johnny’s bed, his head drifting onto Johnny’s shoulder. “And we could meet up with her.”

Johnny feels a fond smile shape at Kaner’s confidence of them winning in five.

“Who said I’m inviting you,” Johnny murmurs.

“Better,” Kaner slurs, “Imma fan.”

Johnny smiles. “You’re gonna miss curfew.”

“Don’t care. Tired, man.”

Johnny groans and takes Kaner’s key, heading to his room so at least it’s being used, and there’s an easy way to explain why it’s not being occupied by the correct person. 

Johnny enters Kristen’s number into his contacts before he goes to bed.

He’ll text her tomorrow. After they win.  
_______________________

**II. Hard to control when it begins**

Kaner does actually suggest they take the Cup to Hollywood again, just before the parade. Johnny knows Kristen said to contact her if he’s ever in L.A. again, but he’s not sure how much of that was just politeness.

He did end up texting her the night after they met, which went something like this:  
**Hey, it’s Johnny. We won tonight so I can’t exactly say I wanna come back anytime soon.**

She replied a few minutes later. **That’s too bad, bud, cuz you’d definitely get laid.**

Aside from that, they’ve texted sporadically, but it was never sexual again. She wished him congrats the other night, and Johnny was pretty sure she even watched a few games; he’s not sure what to make of that.

“You’re thinking too much,” Kaner slurs, elbowing him. He’s been sort of permanently drunk since they won, and Johnny hasn’t fared much better.

“I’m not,” Johnny says, and elbows back.

“Gimme your phone,” Kaner says, trying to grab it from his pocket.

“Fuck you, no.”

Kaner laughs. “Come on, just text her. You know you wanna.”

Johnny rolls his eyes. “ _You_ want me to.”

Kaner smirks. “Well, yeah, but so do you, man.”

“I can’t just text her for a booty call,” Johnny huffs.

“She told you to!”

He hates that he told him that. He hates even more that Kaner’s right.  
_______________________

Kaner sends him judgmental looks all night at the club until Johnny finally pulls out his phone and texts **in L.A.**

He has no idea what to expect and knocks back another shot, his stomach rolling.

 **so you wanna get it in or what?** is what she writes back, and Johnny nearly chokes.

 **is this a trick question?** he replies.

**You’re an asshole. Text me your hotel.**

Johnny does, and then goes to find Kaner, who’s dancing (badly, of course) in front of the Cup. 

“I’m gonna head out,” Johnny shouts over the music.

Kaner waggles his eyebrows. “You call her?”

Johnny nods.

“Can I come?” Kaner says, grinning.

“ _No_.”

Kaner flips him off and goes back to dancing.

Johnny cabs it back and really hopes he has time for a shower before she arrives, since he’s sweaty from the club and flushed from the shots.

She shows up as he’s throwing on some boxers and a t-shirt. He feels under-dressed and ridiculous.

When he opens the door she raises her eyebrows. “Seriously, dude?”

“Sorry, I just took a shower and…”

Kristen smirks. “And kinda redundant to get dressed again.”

Johnny scratches his cheek. “Yeah, that.”

“You shaved,” she says, shedding her hoodie and depositing it on the chair.

“Yeah, the beards are a playoff thing.”

She’s wearing jeans and a Kiss tank top. Her hair’s up in a ponytail. Johnny really can’t even believe she’s here.

“I like it,” Kristen replies, good-naturedly.

Johnny licks his lips and steps closer. Kristen closes the rest of the distance between them, smirking. Johnny cups her cheek with his hand, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip. He leans in and draws their lips together, pushing his tongue slowly inside. She sighs and playfully chases his tongue with her own, her arms coming up around his neck as she presses upward. They kiss harder, deeper, Johnny’s hands sliding down her back and over her ass.

He breaks away, panting, and then brings their lips back together before walking them towards the bed. Kristen tugs on the hem of his t-shirt before sliding it off, breaking the kiss again. Johnny uses the opportunity to rid her of her own shirt before they reach the bed and shuffle onto it.

Johnny frames Kristen’s body with his hands, skimming his fingers up her sides, brushing lightly over her black lace bra.

Kristen arches into his touch, and Johnny places a kiss to her stomach, feeling it quiver beneath his lips. Johnny unbuttons her jeans, mouthing at Kristen’s torso, her hipbones, easing her jeans and underwear down while kissing every inch of skin he can reach. Kristen kicks her legs apart as much as she can with her clothes pooled around her thighs.

He eats her out, slowly at first, taking in the feel of her, how she tastes. She’s not fully shaved but trimmed and he revels in the difference, loving the feel of the coarse hairs against his tongue. He rubs his cheek against her pussy, nipping at her thigh, breathing her in. She isn’t overly loud but Johnny can hear the soft gasps of breath, the bit-off moans when he really gets going. He fucks her with his tongue, holding her open and circling her clit with his fingertips. She arches into it, her breathing stuttering.

Johnny starts fingering her and Kristen arches up into it, clenching around him. “Fuck me," she gasps. 

His dick twitches painfully and he slides up her body, kissing her hard and deep, almost bruising, ridding her of her bra in the process. She groans into it, pulling on his hair before tugging impatiently at his boxers. Johnny kicks them off before grabbing a condom and settling off to her side. They kiss some more, Kristen jacking his dick before Johnny rolls the condom on and positions himself over her, sliding inside slowly. She's so hot around him and he bites his own lip, hard. Her bangs are sweaty on her forehead, her face flush and lips red. She looks fucking amazing. He kisses along her throat as he settles in to the hilt, feeling her hands skim over his shoulders and down his back. 

He has to bend his neck to kiss her, but it’s worth it as they start moving, Kristen’s legs wrapped around his thighs.

She arches into each stroke, cursing under her breath. Johnny drives forward, lost in how tight she feels around him, how her breasts slide against his chest as they rock together.

“So fucking hot,” Johnny whispers and he’s not sure if he means her or the sex or both.

Kristen laughs, quietly, and captures his lips again. She comes a few moments later, Johnny's thumb on her clit as he drives inside, shaking and crying out brokenly, her head thrown back. Johnny drags his teeth along her collarbone as she moans. 

Johnny comes hard a minute or two later, his legs tensing and hips stuttering, his mouth falling open on a loud groan. He rests there for a moment, sucking in deep breaths before pulling out, slowly. They lay next to one another, chests heaving, Johnny’s fingers tracing along her wrist.

He eventually ties off the condom and throws it in the trash. Kristen’s curled onto her side, eyes closed.

“You wanna stay?” he asks, pretty okay with whatever she chooses.

“Mmm. Sure, man,” she says, tugging on his shoulder. Johnny moves so he’s spooning her from behind, a position he’s pretty fond of. Her skin is soft and he likes the way she feels curled against him.

They start talking as they laze, about banal things he could probably learn just from her Wikipedia page alone and vice versa. Still, it’s sort of nice to just talk to one another that way, getting to know someone without relying on technology to supply the answers. It’s a problem he’s often had, and he imagines she has as well.

They fuck again the next morning, in the shower before she goes. It’s a little awkward with the height difference, but they make do in between a lot of laughter and one slip on Johnny’s part – which of course prompts even more laugher.

“This was fun, man,” she says at the door, her hair still wet over her shoulders.

“It was.”

“How long you in town?”

“Just for today. Gotta get back for the parade.”

“Right, you’re a big deal,” Kristen smirks.

Johnny shrugs, feeling suddenly awkward. He wants to see her again but a long-distance hookup isn’t exactly ideal. 

“I could come back after for a few days,” he suggests, trying to sound nonchalant. “Take that vacation you seem to think I need.”

Kristen shakes his head. “No can do, buddy. Heading to Switzerland tomorrow for a shoot.”

“Oh,” Johnny replies, sudden and unexpected disappointment hitting him hard.

Kristen studies him for a moment, until Johnny feels vaguely uncomfortable. Then she’s grinning.

“Do you Skype?”  
_______________________

**III. Trying to find the in-betweens**

Here’s the thing: the idea of Skype sex is… weird. Kaner tells him he’s fucking insane, but Kaner isn’t exactly Johnny’s authority on normal.

“Just go with it,” he says, over the phone. They’re both back in their hometowns before the convention. Johnny had debated staying, especially since Chicago was still buzzing, but he decided against it.

“Maybe she won’t even want to,” Johnny replies, realizing he sounds almost hopeful. He can’t help it – it’s like phone sex and he never really could get into _that_ either.

“Yeah, Johnny, I’m sure she just wants to Skype you for your scintillating conversation.”

“Says the guy who’s been talking to me for the past thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, well, I’m used to you. And I make poor life decisions.”

“Fuck you. And _scintillating?_ ”

“I know big words, dick.”

Johnny chuckles. “Sure you do, Mr. ‘Fun’.”

“I’m hanging up now cause I hate you. Skype her. And yes, that’s a euphemism. And yes, that was another ‘big word.’”

To be honest, it’s been pretty nice talking to Kaner about Kristen – no one else knows because it’s not exactly something he’s about to just blurt out, unprompted. Kaner wouldn’t even know if he hadn’t been in the bathroom that night, but Johnny’s oddly glad he does.

Taking Kaner’s advice for the second time now (a new record, probably), Johnny texts her and asks if she wants to chat. It’s early evening where Kristen is, so it’s possible she’s working. Johnny’s surprised when it only takes her a few minutes to reply with **sure.**

“Yo,” Kristen says, when he logs on. She’s got on a loose t-shirt and her hair is shorter.

“Hey. For the film?” asks Johnny, gesturing to his own head.

“Yeah. Wanna hear my German accent?”

Johnny does; it’s kind of adorable.

They talk for a bit; about her shoot, Switzerland, Winnipeg, favorite foods. Johnny’s starting to think he was stupid for assuming she’d had sex in mind.

Except Kristen stretches at one point and Johnny can’t help but notice the way one side of her shirt falls down, exposing the pale skin of her shoulder, the strap of her bra.

She totally catches him and grins. “You wanna?”

Johnny shrugs, feigning indifference, his cheeks burning.

“I’ll probably suck at it,” he admits, a knot of unfamiliar self-consciousness taking shape. 

Something softens in her eyes. “Hey, we don’t have to talk, just…” she pulls off her shirt, revealing a leopard print bra, and positions the laptop so it’s apparently at the foot of the bed while she leans back against the pillows. Johnny swallows.

“Okay?” she asks. 

He jerks his head in affirmation and positions himself, stripping off his own shirt as well. They just look at one another for a few moments and maybe that’s even more awkward. Kristen must agree because she says, “Want me to take off my bra?”

Johnny nods, choking out a “yes” and feeling ridiculous over how turned on he is already. She makes a show of it and they both bust out laughing. To Johnny’s surprise, rather than kill the mood it eases the tension. And it’s not like his dick isn’t going to be interested in her touching her own tits. It’s akin to the best porno he’s ever seen and he can’t look away.

“Come on, now you,” she huffs, and he tugs at his own nipples, dramatically, until she cracks up.

“That’s awful. Pants. Off.”

Johnny climbs onto his knees so all Kristen can see is his torso on the screen. He pops open one button slowly and eases down the zipper.

“This is fucking terrible,” she says, and he sees her watching through her fingers.

“Hey,” he says, a little offended.

“Dude, your dick is just gonna like, spring out at me on camera, okay. It’s more like a horror show.”

“ _Hey!_ ” he objects, again, but she’s rolling around on the bed, half naked and giggling and he can’t help join in, amusement and arousal all mixing together.

He eventually gets his damn pants off and watches as she shimmies out of her own in the hottest way possible.

Watching Kristen jerk off probably _is_ the sexiest thing Johnny’s ever experienced. She rubs at her clit a lot, between the lips of her pussy. She does slip one finger inside, arching her back, but mostly focuses on the outer stimulation. He’s not gonna lie: he’s taking mental notes.

Johnny, in turn, jerks himself a little slower than normal, wanting to draw it out. Her eyes are dark as she watches him, lip pulled between her teeth.

“I’d suck you so hard right now,” Kristen groans. Johnny’s dick throbs in his fist, heat flashing behind his eyes, pre-come spurting out. 

“Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah. Make you come in my mouth.”

He wasn’t anticipating her being this vocal and it washes away his own anxiety, makes him grit out, “Wanna eat you out while you do it,” his eyes falling shut and his hips raising to fuck his own hand.

“Shit, yes. So fucking close, Johnny.”

He opens his eyes so he doesn’t miss the way she arches, the way her legs begin to straighten at the knee.

“Me too,” Johnny replies. They watch one another, unabashedly, eyes raking over each other’s bodies, their breathing loud in the otherwise quiet. Johnny comes first, his head falling back as he shoots all over his hand and stomach.

He opens his eyes when her moans increase and watches her slide two fingers inside her pussy, arching and shaking.

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny breathes, still reeling from the aftershocks.

Kristen just winks at him, sending them both into a fit of weak, spent laughter.

 **You were right, not weird at all** he texts Kaner later that night.

 **I still hate you** is the response he gets.

Johnny smirks and sleeps like a baby.  
_______________________

**IV. The mood it changes like the wind**

They don’t see one another for the rest of the summer. Johnny’s busy with the convention, the parade in Winnipeg, training, and Olympic camp, and she’s still filming, now in Germany. They have Skype sex a few more times but more often than not they talk or text. He’s gotten to know a lot about her but keeps wanting to learn even more. Before he knows it, a few months have passed and the season is about to start. 

When Kristen calls him early one Saturday morning in October, Johnny’s just gotten laid for the first time – in person – since they’d fucked in L.A. In fact, Dana’s still in his bed, starting to stir, and he has to whisper, “Sorry, go back to sleep,” before quietly exiting to talk. 

He obviously didn’t hold the phone far enough away since Kristen’s first words are, “Dude... did you get lucky?” 

Johnny scratches at the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah.” It feels weird to admit and it felt even weirder to do, actually. But then _that_ thought felt weird last night, since they’ve made no promises to one another, and so he just... did. 

“Why do you sound constipated, then?” 

“I just, uh, is that okay?” 

Kristen laughs. “I’m not your girlfriend, man. You don’t need my permission.” 

Johnny swallows down the sudden, almost overwhelming jolt of disappointment and nods to himself. “Okay, that’s. Good.” 

“I’ll let you go so she doesn’t think you bailed.”

“I’m at my own place, so.” 

“Oh,” Kristen says, voice a little weird. “Well, still.”

“Why’d you call, though?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she says, casually. 

“No, what’s up?”

“Not a big deal, man. I’ll just be around in a couple of weeks, thought maybe I’d visit. But it’s cool.” She sounds as weird as he feels.

“We can. I mean, I’d like to see you.” 

“Okay. I’ll text you.” And then she’s gone and Johnny has to just breathe for a moment.

When Kristen arrives, they talk for the first five minutes and then make out for the next thirty, at least. Johnny’s lips are bitten and swollen but he can’t stop, not with the sounds Kristen keeps making against him. He wants to fuck her so bad, but he also wants to keep doing just this. She’s straddling him on his couch, wearing a backwards hat and a cut-off t-shirt that he just tucks his hand under, feeling her up, before sliding both hands down and sneaking them beneath the waistband of her jeans, cupping her ass. 

"Fuck," she moans and he buries his face in her neck, breathing hard. 

"Yeah," Johnny agrees, absently. 

"That was more of a request."

Johnny grins, kissing up her throat. "Patience."

Kristen scoffs, "Patience, yeah. Like you're not dying for me to sit on your dick."

Johnny hips cant upward immediately and he breathes hard through his nose, pulling back a little. "Okay, fuck, I gotta get –" he trails off when she produces a foil packet from her back pocket. 

"Way ahead of you, buddy,'" Kristen smirks, eyes huge and shining. The whole thing shouldn't be so blindingly hot but it is. 

Johnny takes it from her, ripping it open with his teeth and spitting out the top of the wrapper. 

"Oh yeah, that's hot," Kristen deadpans. 

"Shut up and get on my dick," he grits out, voice rough and thick. He slaps her ass and she jumps, moaning. 

"You like that?" Johnny asks, not hiding his surprise. 

Kristen kisses his neck, dragging her teeth along his skin. "Maaaaybe," she responds, coyly. Johnny does it again and fuck if she doesn't jerk right into it, biting down in the process. Jesus Christ.

"Come on," he whispers, because really, he's gonna lose it now before they even begin. 

She climbs off him and strips right there. His eyes rake over her body, wanting to see it all. There's a hint of awkwardness as she undresses and he loves that almost as much as seeing every exposed patch of pale skin. 

Johnny eases down his own jeans and boxers and she helps him the rest of the way, tossing them over her head while he strips off his shirt. Kristen climbs back on top of him, her firm, bare thighs on either side of his hips and he rolls the condom on. She bends down to suck his cock, getting the rubber nice and wet.

Johnny's hands smooth down her back as she pull off, hips following on their own accord. "You good or you need something?" 

Kristen grins and fuck, he loves her face. The thought feels weird, so he shakes it off. "Nah, I'm pretty damn wet, man. All systems go here."

He shivers as she takes him in her hand and sinks down on his dick. She adjusts her weight and starts moving in slow circles while Johnny just watches, eyes avid on her face, her tits. He gets a handful of them before sliding his hands back to her ass again, wanting to try something. He slaps her once, firm bare cheek against his palm and god, her reaction is incredible.

She pushes her face into his neck and the back of her hat chafes against his skin. Johnny cups Kristen’s ass harder, squeezing, pulling her forward. They start a brutal pace, bodies wielding desperately, frantic. They kiss hard, tongues tangling and teeth clashing. Her loud, high moans are the best things he's ever heard, as is the way she cries out when he stills her hips and slams forward. 

Her head falls back and Johnny can hardly stand it anymore. 

"I'm gonna come," he gasps out, ducking his head and grazing his teeth along nipple as she arches her back even more, meeting him on every upstroke.

"Wait, just, fuck, not yet.”

Johnny groans, sucking on her left nipple, then right. He can feel it building. "How close are you?" 

Her hands grip his shoulders, hard, as she starts to grind her clit down on him. "Almost there." 

Johnny kisses up her chest, along her collarbone, and holds her hips still again, pushing her back a little so she's tilted and just driving up as hard as he fucking can. 

"Oh my god," Kristen moans, and Johnny watches her bite her lip. "R-right there. Fuck, hold it there, okay?" 

Johnny nods, mouthing along her jaw. He's too fucking close, but he tries not to think about it, tries not to think about anything, really. Except he can't shut off her sounds or the feel of her pussy clutching his dick, or the smell of her body lotion, like cocoa butter, right up against his nose. So he just lets out a guttural moan and fucks into her again and again until she's coming on his dick, head thrown back in a wordless cry. Johnny comes a second later, groaning deep in his throat and breathing hard. 

His hips drive into her until he physically can't move anymore and then she's slumping forward, arms around his neck, face warm and damp against his shoulder. 

"Jesus Christ." Her voice is completely wrecked.

Johnny kisses her shoulder softly, reveling in how smooth and hot her skin is against his lips. 

"Fuck, that was hot," he mumbles against her. 

"You sound so dumb after you've come." Her voice is lazy, sated.

"Thanks, I work at it,” he deadpans and listens to her laughter vibrate against him.

“Anyway. Can't do _that_ on Skype." 

"Mmm," Johnny hums, suddenly well aware of how few of times they've actually physically done this in the months they've known one another. It's a depressingly low number and he wishes his dick weren't so spent right now or he'd suggest adding to the tally immediately. 

Kristen's all boneless and warm against him, and Johnny can't even complain, no matter how gross his body is starting to feel. 

"I could go for a nap," Kristen admits after a few moments. 

"Sounds damn good to me."

She gets up, climbing off his dick and walking, unabashedly naked, into his bedroom, not even bothering a glance at her clothes. 

Johnny has no objections there and strips off the condom, tossing it in the trash before following her.

When he stirs awake an indeterminable time later, Kristen's lost the hat and is pressed against his chest. Johnny looks down at her for a second, before kissing her hair and wrapping his arms around her. 

She stirs as he kisses along her shoulders. "Mmm. Wanna go again?"

Johnny laughs. "I'm getting there," he says and she starts jacking him, feeling how he's almost half hard. 

"Guess you haven't been getting much, huh."

"Huh?" Johnny says, pulling back to blink at her. 

"Huh?" She mocks. "You. Sex. Having it."

Johnny frowns. "Really? You wanna talk about stuff like that?"

"Sure," she shrugs, easily. "Why not?"

Johnny doesn't really know why not except for the fact that he just never has with anyone he's slept with, no matter how casual. Still, he doesn’t want to be weird about it. "No, uh, just that once."

"That's pretty sad."

"It was only two weeks ago!" He exclaims, mostly in the interest of saving face. He's not about to say he hasn’t even been trying, hadn’t really even been trying that _night_. Nor does he feel like thinking, once again, about _why_ he hasn't been trying all these months or why it felt weird to begin with. Plus, once he knew Kristen would be visiting soon, there really wasn’t a point to score. 

"Whatever," she replies.

Johnny frowns. "Well, how about you?" The words tumble unbidden from his lips. He doesn't want to know this answer -- wishes he could take it back already.

"Nah, been super busy. But my friend Ashley is apparently setting me up with someone when I get back to L.A.”

"Oh," Johnny says, suddenly feeling a little numb.

"Yeah, but knowing Ash, it'll be like, James Franco and there's no way I’d wanna get involved with his entire -- self."

Johnny doesn't really know what that means, exactly, his mind is still reeling, but he manages to say, "Someone asked me once in an interview who I'd want to play me in a movie and I said him."

Kristen laughs, open and broad. It's a pretty gorgeous sight. "You would," she mocks, but there's a bit of fondness in her voice.

Johnny feels himself flush. "Yeah, well. Anyway, uh, have fun. On your date." He sounds as awkward as he feels and winces, internally.

She studies his face for a moment and he has to look away, flushing some more and staring at the wall behind her.

“You're so weird,” Kristen mutters, and turns his face toward her with two fingers, leaning in. She kisses him lazy and slow, bringing their lips together again and again. 

Johnny kisses back, meeting her pace before changing it into something deep and urgent as the conversation replays in his mind. He goes down on her until she's gasping and shaking, pulling no punches, and then moves back up her body, kissing the entire way, until they're pressed flush up against one another. Kristen moans into the kiss and blindly reaches for a condom in his bedside table. He fucks her long and hard, putting everything he has into it. The bed thumps against the wall while her nails scratch down his back, sure to leave marks. He wants to leave marks himself; wants her to think about this on her date, to still feel it, as improbable as that is -- wants her to compare it to any sex she may have in the future. 

Kristen cries out his name when she comes and Johnny feels a jolt of victory. It takes a little while for her breathing to even out and that's alright, since Johnny's in the same state, body sweaty and skin blotchy red. 

Kristen falls asleep against his chest and Johnny shifts to wrap his arm more securely around her, kissing her hair.

It takes him a little while to fall asleep, unable to turn off his mind. It's stupid to be jealous; they've got a good thing going: he can fuck whoever he wants, she can do the same. It's a win-win. Except it doesn't feel that way. 

In the morning, he wakes up spooned behind her and takes a moment to just bury his nose in her hair and breathe in her scent. She's gotta go back this morning as she has a meeting she forgot about and he has a road trip tomorrow anyway. 

She goes down on him in the shower, pulling off before he comes so they can fuck against the tile, her legs around his waist. There’s no slipping this time around. 

They don't make plans to see each other next and don't even say they'll talk or text. Johnny is sorta waiting for her mention something since she usually ends their conversations that way, but it doesn’t happen. He gives her a pretty long kiss goodbye, though, and Kristen grins at him before she walks out, but not before watching him, expectantly, like she wants him to say what he’s thinking. Seeing as though the only thought running through his head is, ‘Please don’t call me and tell me about your date’, and he’s sure as fuck not about to voice that, he keeps silent.  
_______________________

**V. Count up all your mistakes**

The silence goes on... a lot longer than Johnny expected. In fact, he didn’t expect it at all and now a few weeks have passed and he and Kristen haven’t even spoken. To be fair, Johnny hasn’t exactly contacted her since they last saw one another, because he immediately figured she would’ve. 

It just felt weird – the thought of calling her when she’d have probably gone or was about to go on her date. He didn’t want her to feel like he was all up in her business, and he definitely didn’t want to interrupt anything, unknowingly, because he’s still not over how weird that felt. She probably wouldn’t have cared, one way or the other, but Johnny did. 

The fact that Kristen _hasn’t_ contacted him makes Johnny think maybe he was right; maybe she hit it off with this dude and she’s just – done with him now. When he thinks about that, he gets pretty damn pissed as he really thought they were at least friends. They’d kept in touch previously, even when the conversation wasn’t at all sexual, so he really didn’t think she’d drop out of his life if she started seeing someone on the regular. 

He knows he’s been pretty fucking moody, even moreso than he can be at times, and the guys aren’t exactly thrilled. Kaner says, “Would you chill the fuck out? We’re in L.A. next week and you can fucking get laid.” Except that’s part of the damn problem and he’s not about to tell Kaner, since he’d probably steal Johnny’s phone and send her a text apologizing even though he’s got nothing to be sorry for. Not really, anyway. The game vs the Kings comes about a month since they last spoke. It’s a weekend day game and they’ll have a one day layover before heading to San Jose. 

Kaner waggles his eyebrows at Johnny as they head to their respective rooms, shooting him a thumbs up, but Johnny doesn’t think about it. He goes right on not thinking about it until after they lose in a shootout. He’s disappointed, wishing they could’ve been a bit more solid. He also really just wants to get off. 

He heads back to his room, deciding to just jerk off, long and slow, drawing it out. Maybe he’ll pull up some porn on his laptop, something with a blonde. Maybe two blondes. Except when he gets there, he’s antsy, leg bouncing restlessly as he twirls his phone between his fingers. 

He buckles down and texts Kristen.

**Hey, uh. I’m in L.A.**

**What do you want, a medal?** is the immediate response. 

Johnny winces, dropping onto the bed. Okay, then. 

He debates for about a minute before calling her. 

“What,” she answers flatly on the third ring. He didn’t expect her to pick up.

“Hey, uh. Hey.” 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re incredibly articulate?” 

Johnny pinches the bridge of his nose at her bored, unimpressed tone. “Is this because I haven’t contacted you?” 

“Gosh, you’re a genius, too.” She laughs, but it sounds bitter. “Honestly, man, I tell you that I have _one_ date, and you fucking blow me off for a month? Weak. And don't fucking deny it, cause it's gotta be about that.” 

He doesn’t deny it, but he’s also not really ready to explain exactly why, just yet, or listen to her reaction. "You didn’t call me, either," he replies with instead. 

“Jesus Christ, is this middle school?” 

“I’m just pointing out a fact,” Johnny replies, voice calm even though he’s starting to get annoyed. 

“Yeah, well, I waiting on _you_ , asshole.” 

“And _that’s_ not childish?” His voice is definitely less even now. 

“Whatever,” Kristen says, pissily. “What do you want?” 

“To talk,” Johnny sighs, suddenly feeling exhausted. 

“No, you want to bang because you’re local. But, you know, I’m not so sure I wanna fuck a dude who can’t handle a date. Might I point out I was fine with you screwing someone.” 

“You’re right,” Johnny says, honestly, defeated. This is pointless and he’s just pissing her off now. The fact of the matter is she _was_ fine with it, like she just said. And _he’s_ not fine with that, even though he’s been trying to deny it. “I’m sorry to have bothered you,” he adds, sincerely, and makes to hang up when he hears her say “Wait,” hurriedly. He puts the phone back to his ear. 

Kristen’s silent for a moment and Johnny's thinking maybe he misheard, when she asks, “Why _did_ you care?” 

Johnny sighs. He figures he has nothing else to lose though, at this point, since he’s probably already lost her friendship. 

“I guess – I guess I wanted that date to be with me.”

Kristen’s quiet again and Johnny’s face feels like it’s on fire, his body thrumming with nervous tension. 

“You fucked someone else, hypocrite,” she says, finally. 

Johnny sighs, heavily, lying down on the bed and staring up at the hotel ceiling. “I almost didn’t, okay? I almost went home alone, just because of you, and then I realized how dumb that was. You’re not my girlfriend, like you said.” 

Kristen’s silent again, just the sound of her slow breathing filling up his ear and he wishes to fuck he could see her face. 

“The dude was a dick and he couldn’t even make me come.” 

Johnny’s confused at first, then he realizes she means date dude. He feels a sudden, sharp pang of jealousy before he understands exactly what she’s saying. 

“Yeah?” he asks, admittedly smug.

“Shut up, that doesn’t make you special or anything; it makes him exceptionally bad.”

“Uh-huh,” Johnny says, completely unconvinced, grin stretching at the corners of his mouth.

“I hate you,” she replies, flatly.

“So I won’t bother you anymore,” Johnny says, easily this time, because he’s pretty damn sure she doesn’t mean it in the slightest.

“You’re impossible,” Kristen replies, but she finally sounds a little fond.

“I know,” he agrees. 

Kristen sighs. “Look, I didn’t want to care at all about you fucking that chick – but I did.”

Johnny smiles, stupidly. “I’m glad,” he says, voice quiet.

“Dating me would be a disaster, though,” she says, and seriously she’s so all over the place that he’s getting emotional whiplash.

“Why?”

“Because we’d barely even see each other, man.” She says it like it’s the world’s most obvious thing and he supposes it is. 

“You can come some weekends or even weekdays during the season when I’m around, maybe stay a little longer when you’re not working.”

“I’m not gonna, like, stay in Chicago for extended periods, Johnny. That’d be weird and clingy.”

“Not extended periods, just sometimes. And there's always the offseason, if you aren't shooting." 

“I guess," she admits, then adds, skeptically, "You seriously want to do this?”

“I seriously do,” he says, with feeling. “If you do.”

“As much as I wish otherwise,” she deadpans, “Yeah, I do.”

Johnny’s smile widens, his whole body vibrating with stupid, utter happiness. “Okay.”

Kristen laughs. “Jesus, can you come over already and do me? This conversation is giving me a toothache. And you've never even seen my place, man. You gotta meet my pets."

Johnny laughs, feeling like it’s punched out of him. She sounds so giddy and he loves it. "Yeah, but I can’t stay the night. Curfews and shit.”

Kristen groans. “Are you fucking shitting me? What’s the point of being captain?”

He smirks. “You’re regretting this already, aren’t you?”

“Little bit, man, not gonna lie.”

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Johnny responds, dryly, but he means every word.

END


End file.
